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What Is Left Behind


Dhaelena
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What Is Left Behind

 

 

 

swirls5 – Colours N' Corks

 

Three Years Ago:

A cheerful fire danced in the comfortable palace suite of Kal’Darakaan. The evening was lighthearted and Dhaen felt likewise. She brushed out her ginger ringlets in front of a mirror before attending to her small family below. Her footsteps echoed slightly as she walked to her lover, the Grand King Jorvin Starbreaker, and pressed a kiss to his wearied brow as he worked. She then turned to hoist her child up to rest on her hip, a small cheerful baby, Kazagrim, who was but a year old. Dhaen ran a hand through his dark curls, not unlike the shape of her own yet bearing the dark coloring of his father. She looked into the gaze of the latter and smiled. The Grand King smiled back, stress evident on his face.

 

Two Years Ago:

Dhaen sat in a dark palace room, illuminated by the flickering shadows of a single candle on the desk in front of her. There was no stir in the room, no cheerful babble from her child, nor hurried scratch of Jorvin’s pen. There was only her own breathing, harsh and stuttering as she attempted to contain her panic. She had known he was planning to leave. The silence in his wake at council meetings had been loudest of all to call her attention to the fact.

 

She also knew that wherever he was, he was planning to stay there, to heal. Dhaen trusted him with that. Taking Kazagrim had been unexpected, but ultimately for the best. It had always been her opinion that the city was no place to raise an infant, let alone her own. Yet it still hurt. She had given the mountain every bit of her soul, yet it was her family that held her heart. Dhaen wondered if the urge to find them would ever dissipate.

 

 Regardless, there were more pressing matters - the people in the nation of Urguan needed her, so she would heed their call.

 

One Year Ago:

Dhaen cleared off the papers from the finalized election and gazed out at the wide square, mostly empty besides the occasional dwarf hurrying across it. Out of her pocket she retrieved three letters and placed them at the doorsteps of her family Levian’Tol, Brynaelda, and Bryldryn, each entailing her planned location should they need to contact her.

 

She rested her head on her hand as she returned, a feeling of bittersweet relief flowing through her. Her time in the spotlight was over and the time for a new Grand King had arisen. She did not much care for Norli Starbreaker anymore, feelings of resentment from her youth still not easily forgotten, but she trusted him to take care of the city and find a suitable replacement when her time to leave came as well. 

 

Today: 

Dhaen exited the throne room, applause ringing in her ears and her heart full of love. The winding path out of the kingdom brought her out into the sun as she began her journey to find her lost husband and child.  She would return, be it in a few months or a few decades.

 

The people of Urguan were her family. And family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.

 

 

swirls5 – Colours N' Corks

 

 

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[Sweet Queen Dhaen Grandaxe pulling up with the Grandaxe Bois]

 

 

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AJax softly sighs, seeing an elder of the dwed depart.. though hoping she gets some rest and recuperation. Quietly he begins work on a song dedicated to her, in hopes that such a fine melody could raise her spirits.

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Alaric Grimgold had been working on hammering rails into the earth as the Grand Queen departed, not getting a proper chance to see her leave. It was only as he set his hammer down and took his mask off to wipe the sweat from his brow, that he saw the goat carrying the crimson haired monarch away to rest. He didn't know if she saw him on the mountain top, but he knew he watched one of the hardest working regents and sovereigns he had seen depart the realm and he raised a lone long wave to her in parting. It had only been a few decades since he arrived in town, but Dhaen had steered the Grand Kingdom straight for most of it, and now it was time for the next Dwarves to step into her footsteps. And the mighty footsteps they would have to fill.

 

It was long after the goat carrying the regal figure crested and disappeared into the horizon in the distance that he lowered his hand, and somberly returned to his work.

 

 

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Dorimnur Goldhand, standing in his busy Guild HQ, worker's bustling in and out with steels, timbers, gears, rails and ores, looks for a missing key. He takes out a key ring of monumental proportions, and quickly notices that the one for the Worker's Guild document drawer is still missing. He thinks for a bit as to where it went, and then his expression softens as he remembers giving it to the once Grand Queen Dhaen Grandaxe. He looks out of the door as it opens and closes with dwedmar filing in and out and thinks to himself wistfully "Ah foine lass, ah'n ah even foineh workin' woman. Hope she keeps t'at key."

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Mica Grandaxe at her paper strewn desk and thinks back to her first night in the kingdom, and of how it was Dhaen and Bryn who welcomed her into the city and their clan with open arms. Though, knowing her clan sister is in need of a break she prays for a safe return someday “gods bless ye, travel well” taking a deep breath she returns to her work with a somber expression in her eyes.

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Yazmorra Blackroot looks out upon the city of Kal'Darakaan, sitting at a table of the Hefrumm Tavern, puffing idly on a cigar. She glances up from her mug of ale to see the former Grand Queen riding out of the nation with her head held high. "Even teh foinest ov rulers need sum peace an' quiet, sheh sureleh deserves et." She offers a solemn dip of her head to the great dwarven leader. "May yeh journeh beh blessed en Anbella's loight ov loife." 

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Levian'Tol Grandaxe would stumble home from the King's Court following Dhaen Grandaxe's announcement, his shoulders slumped and his mind blank. As he reaches his door he finds a neatly packed letter on his door step with his name sprawled across it. He would lean over it and reach down to pick it up as the ink began to smudge at his touch. The young dwarf would pick the letter up before touching his cheek mumbling to himself. "Ye go oveh fifteh years not cryin but once and now t'ree toimes en a week." He chuckles lightly as he sets himself on the step in-front of his house remembering his first venture back to Urguan nearly 50 years ago where Dhaen had met him at The Ruined Runesmith and showed him his home and his family. His head would slump against his door as he looks over the ceiling of the cavern Kal'Darakaan searching for some way to feel about this before rising back to his feet and running a hand over his face softly echoing, "Good luck ma."

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Bryldryn returns to the palace after a long day and stumbles upon the letter her sister had left. She picks it up and slumps down on a chair nearby kitchen with a sigh. She places the letter on the table and looks over to the kitchen where Dhaen's belongings had been there which Bryl had cleaned them out earlier that day. She looks down at the letter and places her hand over it and whispers, "May Ogradhad guide your steps, Dungrimm give you strength, and Anbella keep you safe... Return home safe, sister."

 

She takes few moments to regain her composure and shoves the unopened letter in her inner pocket. 

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Carved into the stone above the cavern of the Obsidian Throne, the Palace Suite of the Grand King was dim, lit only with the dancing flames of Norli's personal forge, with the repeated ringing of a hammer's fall on steel, the monarch forging a set of tools. He halts as he hears a pounding on the door, and wipes off the sweat of his brow, sets the tools down and turns to the door. An Obsidian Guard delivers a large, wide package to the Grand King, and offers to check for safety concerns but is dismissed. Norli sits alone with the parcel on a table, his hands tremble ever so subtlety as he unwraps the paper and solemnly smiles as he gazes upon the painting he had commissioned, named Inspiration. Carefully the Grand King hangs it on the wall, and steps back to let a single tear roll down his cheek as he gazes at the likeness of Jorvin Starbreaker and Dhaen Grandaxe sharing their first drink. "Yer service was immeasurable, and ye shall be remembered. Anbella keep ye Dhaen, my sweet apprentice. We'll need ye en good condition when ye return."

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Having been hard at work carving out the Frostbeard Clan Hall day in and day out, Ulfric would miss the chance to properly say goodbye. Upon returning to the square, Ulfric would look around as people walked by, somber and sad expressions littering their faces. Upon looking towards the Throne Room and then to the Front Gate, only then would Ulfric understand. His friend had left, for reasons he may never know, but still he understood, as the thoughts of his 100-year absence came to mind, along with the thoughts of how he had abandoned those closest to him. "I'm sorreh, ol' frien', o'I wish I couldah said goodbye... Bes' ov luck, an' may teh Gods get yeh to where yeh need teh be. I will seh yeh soon..." And with that, he marched back to his hall, anger and somberness motivating him to continue his work, away from where others may see him in such a poor state.

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Brynaelda Grandaxe wept briefly, her hands briefly grazed the desk as she stood quietly in the Grandaxe Clan Hall. Her heart ached with some emptiness, memories of decades ago filled her thoughts. A friend, a mentor, a former clan mother. Her memories of Dhaen were bittersweet as she recalled her confidant. "I'll miss ye." Brynaelda's voice trembled faintly, the thick dwarven accent was almost as heavy as the air in the room. "I'll do my best, fer ye." She remarked quietly to the statue before her, a monument to Dhaen's legacy and a briefly comforting presence, despite the coldness of the stone pillar she rested her forehead against. Her eyes scanned over the plaque, her pudgy fingertips glided over Dhaen's name in contemplation, running the clan would not be any more different, but her heart surely did sink at the departure of a guiding figure. 
Brynaelda paced the hall with trepidation, her eyes darting up to the monuments of her predecessors: a look of longing settled on her face. It had been decades since she had taken lessons from Dhaen, but those were the lessons she cherished. A heartfelt pang broke in her chest as she straightened her posture, she walked the length of the meeting room. Bryn peeked over her shoulder before racing towards the kitchen, grasping for two mugs, filling both with her preferred beverage: Grandaxe Maple Mead, and placed one before the monument as she re-entered. "Narvak oz Dhaen, Narvak oz Grandaxe... To a beloved Queen an' an even more cherished clan sister." She eyed the gesture, feeling guilty from her selfishness in beverage choice but figured since it was just her drinking it, it was understandable... 
 

Brynaelda lifted her mug to the stone-copy of Dhaen, and then tilted it back, guzzling the mead. A flash of movement caught her eye, as Bryn peered to a blur of ginger in her peripheral vision. She reached outwards towards the figure to embrace them tightly and loudly remarked, "Thank goodness yer here, we've got work to do and we best not mope around fer too long- Dhaen would nay like that. I'm sure she'd tell me w'ot fer, when she gets back home." Brynaelda eyed the flute on the meeting table thoughtfully, grasped ahold of the instrument and mumbled a promise to uphold the song she would write for Dhaen.

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